Song of the White Dragon
by estrafalaria103
Summary: Prince Kurt leads a charmed life of feasts and festivals, but when his brother is sent on a dangerous quest to earn the hand of a princess, Kurt finds himself adrift in a world of courtly intrigue, dangerous bandits, enigmatic magicians, and dragons.
1. Prologue

12/30/2010

**A/N: Brand new story! Finishing Concrete Jungle. . .I promise! The other's. . .no promises. . .**

Tina could still hear her mother's voice calling for her to tend the chickens, even as she leapt over the tumbled-down stone wall and rolled halfway down the hill. Mother always wanted her to do the chores, no matter whether it was a Holy Day, or a Festival, or just a regular day. If Madame Chang had her way, Tina would show up to services with straw still in her hair and chicken dung along the bottoms of her shoes. It was best, she had learned, to escape early, before the sun rose and before the chores could be begun.

She would pay for her insolence later, of course – she would have to do her brother's evening chores, or perhaps she would be banned from the next barn dance. Worse yet, her mother might trek across town to Artie's house, and call the engagement off. That would be a shame, Tina thought. Artie was a nice young man, and with good prospect's – he worked in the blacksmith's shop, and when they were married and he a smith, she wouldn't have any chores to do at all.

Still, it was unlikely that her mother would call off the engagement. It was such a step up for their family, and Madame Chang was consumed with honor. Becoming a smith's wife would bring great honor to the family.

Tina was running out of breath as she reached the top of the next hill. It was a hot day, the sun already blazing down though it had risen only an hour ago. She could hear the sounds of the procession already – hundreds of horses, and trumpets. The gates would raise from the McKinley castle, and all the lords and ladies dressed in their best. Chores be darned, she wasn't going to miss the grand procession.

She tripped over her dress, but it was no matter, she just crawled forward the last few paces to lie on top of the hill. The Great Road lay before her, all winding and twisting like the creek behind Artie's home. The people on it moved and undulated, making it look all the more like a coursing river. But near the back there was a cloud of dust, proof that people travelled on the hard worn dirt and gravel.

It was just as magnificent as Tina had imagined. Banners unfurled, waving their bright colors in the wind. There was a snake, cut into three pieces on one, a black boar against a scarlet background on another. Lightening bolts on a third, and a leering baboon face on a fourth. There had to be thousands upon thousands of banners, Tina thought, and for each banner a dozen people. There were litters, carrying great ladies, and knight's in their shining armor. At the front of the great procession were six white horses with six silver-armored men atop them, and trumpeters on either side. Tina wished that Sam, the herbmaster's apprentice were there – he could probably tell her what the banners meant, what houses they came from. He would have stories about the magical lands that these strangers came from, would explain the histories and the legends.

There is only one that she knows – the longest, tallest banner of them all, right at the front of the procession. A pure white dragon, stitched through with silver and gold threads, set against a deeply blue backgrounds, with brilliant silver stars shining. That is for the king and queen, and for their beautiful princess.

Tina sighs, and lets her chin rest heavily on one outstretched arm. Everyone says that the princess is beautiful, with hair like spun gold and eyes as green as emerald's. She'll have pale skin, too, not Tina's dusky olive complexion, and hands as smooth as a baby – highborn lady's hands, without the rough calluses of the peasants. She'll wear a beautiful silk gown, and have diamonds dripping from her ears.

Tina thinks that she would give anything to see the princess, but she's surely hidden away behind one of the litters.

"Tina! Tina Ruth Chang, you get your fancy little arse back here and feed those chickens!"

Tina sighs, and starts to get up. Her mother doesn't usually seek her out – usually just waits for the recalcitrant return. The fact that she has walked out so far means that Tina's punishment will be worse than usual. Lashings, perhaps, or at least bedtime with no dinner. She casts one last, longing glance toward the procession, now nearing the castle. This is the most that she will see of the betrothal ceremony. Strange to think that she has come closer to spotting the foreigner princess than her own prince.

Sixteen summers, and she's never seen the king or queen, or their two sons. Sam claims that he did, when he went for training in the castle. He said that Prince Finn was as tall as an oak tree, and that Queen Carole was very lovely and kind. Tina had no reason to doubt Sam, but she still wishes that she could see them herself.

Mother is coming up the road, and Tina knows that if she hops back over the stone wall she can avoid being caught. Maybe, if she is back feeding the chickens when mother returns, she can avoid trouble. It's unlikely - her absence has clearly been noticed, and her mother is not easily tricked, but even so it seems like a worthwhile endeavor.

So she hops the wall, and hurries down the path behind the herbmaster's cottage. Sam stares out a window at her, his massive mouth gaping open, but she just waves hurriedly and dashes forward, grasping her skirts a little indecorously as the dust kicks up behind her. She scrambles beneath the barn beams, grabs up a bucket of chicken feed, and slides around the corner, throwing out kernels as she goes.

She's just reaching the chicken keep when she sees him. Artie Abrams is stretched out, legs crossed, leaning back against one of the low-hewn branches that help the chickens know where they belong. Tina sticks out her lower lip and considers. Artie's always been nice to her, but even nicer to her mother. She thinks that he's willing to marry her, but she's not really sure. Sam doesn't mind that she runs around exposing her ankles, or that she's late to chores, or that sometimes her long, dark hair falls in front of her face, but then again Sam has always been strange. Artie may care.

She drops a quick curtsey, spilling a few more kernels. A pair of chickens notice her, squawk almost angrily, and flap their wings to make their way over to her. Tina gasps, and Artie opens one eye.

"Good morning," she says.

"Morning," Artie says chipperly, standing himself. He walks over to her and takes the bucket from her hands. "A little late to the morning chores, aren't you?" he asks, glancing at where the sun nows stands at midmorning.

"I. . .I went to see the royal p-p-procession," Tina confesses, a bit of a stutter coming through. Her heart is pounding in her chest, louder than it ought to, she thinks. She isn't scared, but Artie has such blue, blue eyes, and even though he's shorter than most of the boys in town, his shoulders are broader and his arms more muscled.

"Oh, for the betrothal," Artie says, nodding. He reaches in and spreads some corn on the ground, stepping back quickly as the chickens descend to peck at it. He watches them for a moment, his brow crinkled, as Tina watches him.

"You know," Artie says slowly, "There's a spyglass in the cave behind the herbmaster's cottage."

Tina starts, her mouth falling open. "Wh-wh-what?"

"It's true," Artie says idly. "Sam and I went there once. It's just like in the stories, with the pirate spyglasses."

Tina shakes her head. She can't believe that they would venture into the cave – even Sam, as strange as he is, seems like he should know better. The cave is haunted, everybody knows that, by a monstrous beast. And even if it isn't haunted – Tina knows that there's no such thing as ghosts, they're just a story told by old grandmarms to frighten children – there still must be a beast that lives in there. A bear, maybe, or a mountain cat. Either way, it's hardly safe.

Artie is watching, and much notice the myriad expressions that cross her face, because he laughs shortly and shrugs. "It's okay," he says. "If you're too afraid, Sam and I can go ourselves. It's a great spyglass – let's you see right over the castle walls. You can watch the knights at practice. I think we even saw Prince Finn once."

That decides it for Tina. Prince Finn is handsome, she's heard, and brave and strong, and she thinks that nothing would be more wonderful than seeing him, even if it is from ar away and only through a bewitched spyglass.

"Is it safe?" she asks. Artie grins.

"Asks the girl who doesn't fear Madame Chang's wrath," he teases. "Come now, Tina, your mother is far more terrifying than any beast in a cave. Besides, I have my sword, and Sam has his magic."

It isn't magic, Tina wants to remind him, just healing herbs and noxious-smelling potions. She's heard that there are other lands with real magic – that the Princess Quinn, in fact, comes from one such place, where men cast spells with words alone. Not here, though – here they have only the herbmaster, who mutters strange things under his breath and crushes berries to help with foalings and birthings. Still, she notices the shortsword strapped to Artie's hip, and the breadth of his shoulders.

"D-d-d-did you make that yourself?" she asks breathlessly. Artie's grin widens, and he pats the sword again.

"Aye," he says. "My first forged steel. Master Tanaka was so proud of me that he said I might keep it."

"But do you know how to use it?" Tina asks doubtfully. Artie frowns a little at that.

"Do you want to come or not?" he asks. "We haven't got all day. There's a feast tonight, and we'll need to come back."  
Tina worries at her lower lip, wondering. The cautious side of her mind warns her that it's a bad idea. But this is her betrothed staring at her, and she doesn't want to let him down. Besides, she very much wants to see more of the betrothal party. She doesn't trust her mouth to speak however, certain that her cursed stutter will confuse the meaning of her words, so she just nods her head, short and jerky but certain all the same.

"Great," Artie says, reaching down and grasped her hand. "Let's go – Sam said that he'll meet us there!"

The sun is well over mid-day by the time they arrive at the cave. Tina is gasping for breath, and there are wet patches under her arms and between her breasts. She's never been to the cave before – had no idea where it was, in truth. It's halfway up the Mountain, surrounded by fir trees. They smell sick and syrupy, thick sap bleeding out the sides of the trees. Artie explains that it's from the heat – that it bursts that wood apart. It's not blood, he tells her, but he can't really explain to her what it is. Tina just wipes the sweat out of her eyes and trudges forward, hoping that Artie isn't disgusted by how unlady-like she looks.

The town spreads out below them, and even further away the castle. It looks tall and forboding from the road, but here it looks like a plaything, a toy for a child. Tina frowns at it. This spyglass must be truly amazing – the castle is so far that she can't even make out the figures of people on the walls.

Sam is standing just outside the cave, his bright mouth in the widest smile Tina has ever seen. He and Artie shake hands, playing at being adults, and immediately enter the cave. Tina remains outside for a moment, still shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. Behind her is the cave, dark and almost welcoming, shade from the sun. She can feel the cooler air within it against her back, but something keeps her from entering, something keeps her eyes fixated on the castle below her.

Their mayor has explained to them the betrothal – it is to unite two kingdoms, he told them, and to cease the eternal battles that have plagued the border of Fabray and Hudson. But here, far from the border and so close to the castle, Tina has never seen war or battle. She doubts that this betrothal will mean anything for her, or her mother, other than one great feast.

There's a shout from within the cave, and Tina turns, prepared to enter. Another shout follows after it, though, and a dull rumbling. She doesn't know what makes her do it, but a sick feeling in the stomach. She dashes behind one of the sticky trees, the sap immediately clinging to her fingers. She barely notices, though, as there's a rumbling from deep within the earth. The shout this time is cut off midway through, strangled sounding and injured.

There is a beast, she thinks dully. A true beast in the depths of the cave. She utters a prayer up to the Great God above. The earth shudders again.

When she's asked about it later, she can't remember how it happens, exactly. There's a blast of heat from within the cave, enough that it singes her eyebrows and sets the hem of her dress aflame. There's an acrid scent in her nose, and a strange, metallic taste in her mouth. There's the sound of screaming – Sam or Artie, she doesn't know, not in the moment, and not later. There's another shudder in the ground, throwing her to the ground. She scrapes a knee and both hands, and she's sticky with the trees blood and her own, and then there's thick smoke.

She swears later that it's white, the great beast that arises from within the cave. It has wings, she'll swear it, and eyes as black as obsidian. It roars mightily, and flies away.

**A/N: Poor Tina. Poor Sam. Poor Artie. Always stinks to be in a prologue.**

**COMING SOON: The actual betrothal ceremony, the eternally attractive Sir Cooper, Prince Kurt and his troublesome compatriot, the devious Sebastian. Oh yes, we're going full AU here.**


	2. The Greatest Knight in the Realm

12/30/2010

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, as always! This is quite a bit different than my other stories – it's an adventure, I'll say that much.**

A great roar goes up from the crowd as the knight of Gray Manor is unseated from his horse. He's an older man, Sir Harold, and Prince Kurt isn't terribly surprised to see him on the ground. Still, he's one of the greatest knights in the kingdom of Hudson, and the crowd always roots for its own.

"Ouch," Mercedes whispers from his right side. "That looks like it hurt."

"I'm sure that the padding in his armor cushioned his fall," Kurt says, gently patting her on the shoulder.

"And if it didn't, the fat in his ass certainly did," Sebastian adds drolly.

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns back to the tourney. He's not certain how he feels about the show – on the one hand, he's never been a fan of violence and fighting. He'd preferred to stay with the ladies of court, embroidering and gossiping then going out to the fields and learning to fight. Luckily his father hadn't care, and his older brother Finn had always been a fighter.

So he's not a fan of the melee, certainly, and he doesn't like the idea of the tournament. The pageantry appeals to him, though, the banners flying, the cries of the men and women, the enameled armor.

And, Kurt thinks appreciatively as the knight from Fabray takes off his helmet, the handsome young knights don't hurt, either.

"Who's this one?" he asks. He's spent the last fortnight closeted away in chambers with his Father, Finn, and the counselors, going over the details of the betrothal. He's been away from the gossip lately, but he has no doubt that Mercedes will know every knight and every bannerman. She's only a chambermaid, but Mercedes has her finger on the gossip pulse of the castle. She probably knows who's married and who has fathered children, too.

This knight is particularly handsome, with wavy brown locks and piercing blue eyes. Broad-shouldered, and with a strong jawline. The knight smiles and salutes to the ladies, and then jumps down from his own mount to help Sir Harold to his feet.

"Sir Cooper," Mercedes sighs. She has one hand pressed to her impressive bosom, and a dreamy smile on her face. "He's one of the greatest knights of the realm. Unmarried, too, though it's said that he's broken a thousand hearts."

"Hmm," Kurt murmurs, still admiring the strong lines of the man's face. Beside him, Sebastian snorts. "Not your type?" Kurt asks wryly.

It's a well known fact that Sebastian will lay with any man, straight or gay. He's kissed more men that Kurt has met in his life, though he usually likes his men pretty. At one time, Kurt had been insulted that Sebastian never made a pass at him – until Mercedes pointed out that one doesn't love and leave a prince, not if a man wants to keep his head.

"I'd prefer his little squire, myself," Sebastian murmurs. Kurt glances at his best friend, and follows his line of sight. He's staring at a short young man who dashes forward to grab Sir Cooper's horse. A nice enough looking youth, Kurt thinks. Thick, curling dark hair and striking eyebrows over a classic face. His eyes sparkle in the afternoon sun, and he has the same broad shoulders as his knight.

Kurt smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have a chance," he says, watching the way that the squire strokes the horses mane and whispers in its ear. The horse quiets at once, no longer stomping the ground and snorting, but following the boy placidly back to the tents. Kurt's sharp eyes catch upon the pin at the squire's shoulder – a simple canary in a wreath of gold – the sign of the Maege's Tower.

"I have a chance with everyone," Sebastian snorts. "I'll wager you fifteen gold pieces that I'll tap that ass by the end of the night."

"I'll take that wager," Mercedes says quickly. She glances at Kurt and winks, and he realizes that his friend has noted the same sigil. "I could do with a new dress."

Sebastian spits in his hand, and runs his wet hand through his hair, smoothing down any errant strands before grinning cockily. "Swell," he says smoothly, before winking at both of them and sauntering off. "I could use some magic in my life, anyway."

Mercedes and Kurt both giggle, before turning their gazes back to the stiles. There's a trumpet announcing the next competitor, and they both pull forward on their seats. It's Prince Finn's turn now. He takes a moment to walk around the arena, smiling at the ladies and waving energetically at Kurt and their father. He stops for a moment before the royal box, bowing down low. Kurt glances sideways at the pretty blond that his brother is bowing to.

There's no doubt that the Princess Quinn is beautiful. Her hair is a gentle cascade of gold, and her eyes shin like a thousand emeralds. Still, there's something that Kurt doesn't like in her gaze – something cold and calculating. There is no doubt that this marriage is a good match for the kingdom, but between Finn's gentle exuberance and the princess's icy demeanor, Kurt thinks that it might not be the best match for his brother.

He and Mercedes stay long enough to see Finn tilt. It isn't a good match, but then jousting has never been Finn's strong suit. He's too tall and ungainly. He's a formidable fighter on the ground, when he can use his height and strength to his advantage, but on a horse he's awkward. They wince when he hits the ground, before leaving the arena and heading inside to dress for the banquet. On their way out they spot Sebastian and the squire. Kurt can't help but chuckle a little – Sebastian's pushed the smaller man up against a fence, his longer body nearly curling around the boy, who seems to be a bit nervous. Mercedes is frowning as Kurt nudges her in the ribs.

"Looks like you'll be fifteen gold pieces poorer," he whispers.

"We'll see," Mercedes grumbles. "I don't get it. . .Seb's not even that good-looking."

"He does look a bit like a meerkat," Kurt muses, before shrugging.

He takes a warm bath, ignoring the grumbling of the chamber maids who complain about laboring over a fire when it's so hot outside. Still, Kurt needs to look his absolute best for the feast. It's pure vanity, and he knows that, but even so. He must represent the kingdom to everyone from Fabray, and heavens knows that Finn can't shoulder that responsibility.

Lying in the rapidly cooling water, Kurt closes his eyes, and shifts his body down so that all but his head is submerged. Today the jousting, tonight the feast, tomorrow the melee, and then the betrothal ceremony. It will be a busy few days for his brother. . .Kurt thanks the great God once again that he hadn't been born the elder. He can't imagine being betrothed to somebody that he'd never met.

Although, if the unknown person looked anything like Sir Cooper. . .there's a small smile drifting across the boys' face when he thinks of the knight, who is surely everything that a knight should be: courteous and gallant, and ever so handsome. Kurt's never had dreams of being a damsel in distress, but he thinks that it would be rather nice to be rescued by a big hunk of a man like Cooper, to be held tightly in those strong arms. . .

He's about to drift off into. . .better. . .fantasies, when there's a hard knock at his door. "Hummel!" Sebastian yells through the door. "Hurry your arse up. I need you in the banquet room now."

"Why?" Kurt murmurs back. His voice probably only just carries through the heavy oak door, but he doesn't really care.

"I'm still wooing the squire," Sebastian says back. "He'll be at the head table, which means _I_ need to be at the head table, which means we need to get there before your brother and all his buffoonish friends.

Kurt sighs. He has no particular desire to help his friend make another conquest, especially once that seems so easy. The short squire had seemed overwhelmed earlier in the day. . .he wouldn't withstand Sebastian and his charms for long. He had no doubt that Sebastian would start pulling out some of the magic tricks that he had learned from the herbmasters, and it wouldn't surprise him at all to learn that even now his friend had the crushed leaves and berry juices necessary to make a love potion. He almost felt badly for the squire.

It then occurs to him that a squire would only be at the head table if the knight he was attending was also there – which meant Sir Cooper. Suddenly it seems like a much better idea to be prompt to the feast.

He dresses carefully, despite the haste, ignoring the irritated huffs from Sebastian just outside the door. The blue silk, he decides, with the silver and green threading. A pair of black leather boots – lace up, to nearly his thigh. His father will shake his head in bemusement, and his mother will want a similar pair. He brushes through his hair quickly as well, making sure that each strand was perfectly in place. He glances in the shard of glass that he had – perfection.

He opens the door to find Sebastian stretched out along the ground, lanky body taking up the majority of walking way. Kurt just quirks one eyebrow at the pathetic sight. "Really, Seb?"

The other boy scrambles to his feet. "I don't think you get it, Kurt," he grouses as the two young men head down to the Great Hall. "This guy. . ._Gods_, he's got the tightest little ass, and these calloused hands with long fingers that you just know. . and his _eyes_,"

"Okay, I think I get it," Kurt says, although the picture he's forming in his mind is broad shoulders and blue eyes. "What are they doing at the head table, anyway?"

"Apparently the good Sir Cooper is Princess Quinn's sworn Shield," Sebastian explains. "One of the oldest houses in Fabray. And Blaine is his youngest brother, so he'll be joining them."

"Who's Blaine?"

"The _squire_," Sebastian says, exasperation in his voice. He squints at Kurt. "Are you fooling with me, Hummel?"

"I? Jest?" Kurt raises one hand and flutters it delicately. "That you should even accuse me of such a thing!"

Sebastian just grumbles under his breath as they enter the Great Hall.

They're still somewhat late, even with Kurt having hurried his preparations. His mother and father are in their accustomed spots, the short, dark king and queen of Fabray in the spots of highest honor. Princess Quinn sits beside her brother. Kurt smiles in approval – she looks truly stunning, with a light green silk dress that shows off her eyes, and silver thread wound through her hair to make it shine more than usual. Beside her, Finn looks as oafish as ever.

"Oh my Great Lord," Sebastian moans. "So goddamn beautiful."

Kurt is about to agree with the assessment, when he realizes that his friend isn't looking at the princess at all, but just a bit down the table where the squire is sitting beside a rather homely girl. Sir Cooper is nowhere in sight.

"Sir Cooper is notoriously late to banquets," Sebastian says, his eyes still fixated on Blaine. "Great Lord, do you think your father would be angered if I just picked him up and had my way with him over the meat course?"

"At least wait for the fish," Kurt says drolly, leading the way to the table. He won't let the disappointment show on his face – he's too well trained for that, but he dearly wishes that Sir Cooper were around. He sits down a bit heavily, though he keeps his manners enough to first bow toward the strange young lady, who smiles brightly at him.

"Your Grace," the squire – Blaine – says, hurriedly jumping to his feet, simultaneously attempting to bow. It's ridiculous looking, his body bent double, while in motion, and he nearly hits Kurt's head with the bottom of his chin. Kurt just sighs and pats the bench beside him.

"Blaine, is it? Sit down before you hurt yourself."

"Yes, Your Grace," Blaine says again, before hurriedly sitting down. The girl titters, and Kurt turns his gaze to her.

"Such a lovely flower to grace us with your presence," Kurt says smoothly. "I am afraid that I know not your acquaintance, fair lady."

"Oh, no lady, Your Grace," she says, and she blushes prettily. It's almost enough to make up for the straight, thick eyebrow, or the two-large nose. "Just Rachel - Merely an apprentice at the Maege's Tower." She gestures toward the gold brooch, high on her shoulder. Kurt lets out a low whistle before he has the chance to stop himself.

By tradition, after entering the Maege's Tower, apprentices don't leave, though occasionally a high-born apprentice might leave to attend to noble matters. He'd assumed that Blaine was somehow related to Cooper – a temporary squire at best, for the betrothal ceremony. To see one apprentice abroad was odd enough, but to see two, and one a woman, was almost unheard of.

"Your presence honors this humble hall," Sebastian purrs, before turning to look at the boy seated to Kurt's left. "As does yours, milord."

Kurt has half a mind to slap his friend across the face, insinuating that he was somehow connected to the royal family. Still, it was humorous to see his friend trying so desperately to weasel his way into a boy's pants. Even more amusing was the brief look of panic in the boy's eyes, before schooling his face into a polite mask.

Well, Kurt thought, Sebastian was right about one thing, at least. Blaine _did_ have lovely eyes.

"Thank you," Blaine says, black eyelashes fluttering a little too quickly to be anything but nerves. "I'm not a lord, though. Just Blaine."

"Plain Blaine," the girl laughs, though at least she has the grace to look ashamed when Kurt glances at her. "At least. . .that's as they call him in the Maege's Tower. Your Grace."

"The fair fine Blaine, so long as the moon may wax and wane, so long as men may call me sane, so long as red wine silk doth stain, my heart shall beat a tune so plain, a song of love for Blaine," Sebastian whispers coyly. Kurt manages to disguise his laugh as a cough. It doesn't help when Blaine begins patting him on the back uncertainly, the tips of his eyes stained red.

The night continues on in the same vein, with Sebastian becoming ever more desperate, while Blaine seems to settle in to the praise and ceases to react. Rachel flits from topic to topic at dizzying speeds, and it's all that Kurt can do to keep up with her. She's as well-learned as any noble lady, though when he asks her to show off a bit of magic she politely demurs.

It is as the pies are being served (Kurt's mouth waters, even though he _knows_ what they will do to his hips) that King Edmund rises to his feet. "Oh no," Rachel whispers. "I thought he decided not to do this."

"Do what?" Kurt asks, curious and feeling strangely left out.

"It's a silly tradition," Blaine whispers lowly. His breath is hot against Kurt's skin. "The Kingdom of Fabray hasn't exercised it in years."

"It's because of the prophecy," Rachel insists. "You know that it is."

Kurt is just about to inquire about the prophecy when the king starts to speak.

"King Burt, Queen Carole, we thank you for your fine hospitality," the king says. "For the fine tourney today, and this marvelous feast. We look forward to the melee tomorrow, and to the betrothal ceremony. The young heir Finn is a fine and upstanding young man, and a great warrior. We could not ask for more for our princess."

Kurt glances at the princess for a moment, where her eyes are demurely downcast. Finn is just staring at him, hearts nearly pouring out of his eyes.

"And yet. . ." the king pauses for a moment. "And yet there is something that we must ask, something that our great kingdom demands."

"I told you," Rachel hisses fiercely. "You see Blaine, I _told_ you."

"What?" Kurt asks again.

Blaine and the king speak at the same time, as though in answer together to Kurt's question. "A quest."

**A/N: Meh. Hate the ending there, but I was getting tired of drawing out the chapter.**

**COMING SOON: The melee! The delicious Sir Cooper returns, we find out what happened to Tina & co. from the prologue and Finn must decide whether to accept this mysterious quest.**


	3. The Quest

12/30/2010

**A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews! They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you! Also, sorry for the wait. . .I have a long commute to work every day, which just zaps my energy. So don't give up . . .updates will be coming, they just may be a bit few and far between. **

As a general rule, there are three things that Kurt hates more than anything in the world: peasant's burlap masquerading as fine clothing; a badly drawn bath; and melees. The first two are an inevitable part of life, though he tries to avoid them as much as possible, and has nearly eradicated their existence within the castle by issuing poisonous barbs at servants, and the third he has avoided since he was seven years old. This year, the king had entered his room at dawn, thrown open the drapes, and insisted that it would be a grave affront to the foreign nobility if every member of the Hudmel royal family did not attend.

That doesn't mean that Kurt is happy about it.

In fact, nobody seems to be in a particularly good mood. His mother and father continue to mutter nervously about the quest – evidently, during the betrothal negotiations (over two years in the making, really) it had been decided that the quest would be foregone, as usual. Meanwhile, Sebastian and Mercedes are bickering over their bet.

"You spent the night in Jesse's room, Britt saw you leaving this morning," Mercedes says, stabbing one finger into the middle of Sebastian's chest. "Don't try and pretend that you got it in with the squire."

"I'm a virile young man," Sebastian insists innocently. "I can't be tied down."  
"Don't give me that," Mercedes says. "Jesse was limping for a week the last time you were with him, and surprise surprise, he practically needs a cane today. The fine young squire, however, seems to be having no difficulties. Now pay up, you sugar-footed dandy."

"Fine," Sebastian admits finally. "He shut me out last night, not even a word of thanks for my troubles in escorting him to his bedchamber."  
"I don't care about your troubles," Mercedes says. "I care about my gold pieces. Now pay up."

"Double or nothing," Sebastian says. Mercedes just rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Seriously. Blaine is still the hottest ass in the castle right now, and I'm not going to give up."

"Has anybody told you that you're disgusting?"

"My mother does, daily. Now, what do you say?"

Mercedes considers. Kurt sees her glance at him out of the side of her eyes. "Kurt, will you witness?"

"This is beneath my dignity," Kurt says, lifting his nose. Then he shrugs. "I'll still witness."

Sebastian lets out a whoop and swiftly departs from the stands, no doubt to go find the squire. Kurt sighs and redirects his gaze toward the carnage on the field. It's all so senseless, men beating one another until they're bruised and bloody, and for no purpose other than a kind word from a king and a place of honor at a feast. There's no gallantry in it – blunt weapons, flying hands, maces and shields, broken noses and lost teeth – it has none of the chivalry of the tourney. He glances over at his father, wondering if he could maybe sneak away without anybody noticing. But King Burt is staring right back at him. With a heavy sigh, Kurt plops his chin back into his hand and redirects his eyes toward the field.

At least he can console himself with the sight of Sir Cooper. The knight is right in the thick of everything, armed only with a practice sword. There's no heavy armor allowed in the melee, so his hair is glinting in the sun, his blue eyes dancing. He's smiling – laughing, actually – as he lays into another man. Kurt sighs. Sir Cooper isn't so much fighting as he is dancing. Blows seem to glance off him, leaving him undamaged and unharmed. Where other men are clutching at stomachs, are holding damaged arms close to their core or are limping on bruised legs, Sir Cooper is hopping over fallen men, and turns aside sword strikes as though they're nothing.

"He's amazing," Kurt whispers.

"No, kidding," Mercedes says, shaking her head. "I can't believe he's trying to put the moves on in the middle of the melee!"

Kurt follows her line of sight. Sure enough, Sebastian has slunk over the fence separating the squires and attendants from the bloodbath. It takes him a moment to get his bearings, but Kurt can tell the exact minute that his friend lays sight of his target. Sebastian is always determined, but when he's in search of a conquest he becomes so single-minded that it can be almost terrifying.

"You don't think he'll actually succeed, do you?" Mercedes asks, a little breathless. "In all truth, I don't have thirty gold pieces to squander."

Kurt squints in the morning sunlight, trying to find the short squire in the press of people. He spots him finally, pressed up tight against the fence, hazel eyes wide and unblinking. He seems fixated on the figure of Sir Cooper, his lips moving rapidly and silently.

"I don't think so," Kurt says. "He's an apprentice. Don't they take vows of chastity?"

"Not until the oath-making, when they become maege's," Mercedes says, biting her lips nervously. "I mean, Sebastian really is very good-looking, isn't he?"

Kurt shrugs. He prefers not to look at his friends in that light, in particular his male friends. Homosexuality isn't outlawed in the kingdom – hasn't been since King Burt took the throne – but it still isn't exactly greeted with open arms by most of his countrymen. And, of course, after a year in which Sebastian hit on every other man in the keep and studiously ignored both Kurt and his brother Finn, he'd decided that the young lordling was not all that attractive anyway.

Kurt continued to watch the melee – it was beginning to die down, now, as men fell and were pulled off the field by squires or friends. Perhaps a dozen men remained, now slammed together in the center of the tourney field. Sir Cooper was in the middle of it, his sword a gleaming beacon as it swung, parried, and thrust against his opponents. Behind Kurt, the Princess Quinn watches the battle impassively, while Finn twitches on her right. That causes a bit of a grin to dance across Kurt's face – his loutish brother would no doubt prefer to fight than be caged along with the nobility.

He chances another look at Sebastian, who has a defeated look on his face. Blaine is still intently watching the melee, thick eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. Mercedes is chortling at her success. On the field, a massive knight swings at Sir Cooper, who dances under it and nicks the other soldier's neck. Kurt sucks in a quick breath when another man comes up behind Sir Cooper, but razorsharp the knight turns and deflects another blow. Where the other men fighting in the melee lumber, Sir Cooper seems to almost anticipate every attack. Kurt's heart begins to beat faster.

"Oh, Gods, no!" Mercedes shocked breath pulls Kurt's attention away from the carnage on the field. He looks at her first, before following her eyes to where Sebastian and Blaine stand. The two were locked together, both of Sebastian's hands firmly cupping the apprentice's cheeks, their lips fused. "That's _cheating_," Mercedes hisses. There's a cry from behind him, Princess Quinn sounding shocked and scared while Finn seems almost joyous. When Kurt looks to the field again, he notices that Sir Cooper has taken a blow, and lies on the ground.

It's a funny thing that happens next. The crowd is going wild as the handsome knight scurries beneath men's trampling feet, and the crash of the swords on shields and wood creates a loud roar. A lone thunderclap cuts through it all, however, and the next thing that Kurt realizes, Sebastian is lying on the ground with a red handprint outlined on his cheek, and Blaine has jumped the fence and is striding directly into the melee.

"What is he _doing_?" the princess gasps, at the same time as the King Fabray stands and begins yelling "stop!" and Finn cries "he doesn't even have a sword!"

They can't be heard over the crowd however – not far enough to make a difference, at least. Blaine, not wearing the hard-boiled leather of the other squires nor carrying a shield simply walks around a man bearing a mace, ducks below one of the knight's flying morningstars, grabs Sir Cooper by both armpits and proceeds to drag him off the field. It's an almost comical sight, Blaine shorter than the smallest knight by nearly a foot, dragging the heavily muscled, _extremely_ handsome Sir Cooper in the least dignified manner possible. The knight, meanwhile, appears to be lecturing the young apprentice.

Mercedes giggles, and as much as Kurt wants to shush her and demand some respect for the knight, he can't help but join in a bit. It's not long after Sir Cooper's unglorious retreat that the melee ends, won by the massive man still baring a bruise and a nick from Sir Cooper's wooden sword. He walks forward and receives King Burt's blessing, and a wreath of flowers from Queen Carole. Finn obediently invites the man to sup with them at the high table. With that done, the royal family stands to leave. Kurt, however, remains behind.

"Shouldn't you be off with the other stuffed peacocks?" Sebastian asks snidely when he returns to the stands. Kurt smiles broadly.

"How's the face?" he asks, looking pointedly to the red stain still smearing his friend's left cheek.

"Still looks better than yours," Sebastian says. Mercedes giggles.

Kurt is dressing for dinner when Jacob enters the room. The page is as obsequious and irritating as ever, bowing and scuffling, and refusing to tell Kurt why his father has called him to his chambers.

"I'm not going to be summoned without my hair done," Kurt says. "I have an image to maintain."

"No, no, no," Jacob insists. No time for that. The king says now and he means now. Now means now."

"Now does not. . ." Kurt is absolutely shocked when the tiny, frizzy-haired fool actually grabs him. "I am a prince, unhand me!"

"You may be a prince, but your father is a king, and he told me that I'll regret it if I don't drag you in to him. No offense, Prince Kurt, but you dad is huge and kind of scary and you. . ."

Kurt angrily shrugs his arm off and begins walking toward his father's chambers on his own. "Look like a girl?"

"Yes," Jacob agrees readily enough. Kurt just rolls his eyes.

He's extremely irate when he enters his father's bedchambers. He's half-dressed, his hair is mussed, and he'd been hoping to at least wash the grime off his face before dinner. He knows that his father never understands when he explains the importance of appearance, but even King Burt must recognize that this is simply not acceptable.

He's surprised when he enters the room to see not only his royal father, but also his brother, King Fabray and. . .oh, Dear God, his throat starts to seize up. . .the beautiful Prince Cooper. Who somehow manages to look even more dashing with a bruise darkening his brow and a split lip. All of the rage that had been coursing through Kurt's veins immediately disappears, and one hand flutters up to brush back his unbrushed hair.

"Y-you. ..father. . .sent. . ." He can't even get the words out, his face is turning red, and he can't stop staring at the handsome knight. This is beyond humiliating.

"Oh, Kurt, good," King Burt beams and claps his hands. "As you know, it is the custom of the Fabray's that a man go on a quest before becoming betrothed."

Kurt nods his head, kind of wondering what any of this has to do with him. Burt coughs a little uncomfortably. "Tomorrow we'll be sending out Finn with a retinue of guards. Supposedly there is a troll under the bridge between our two kingdoms –"

"Not supposedly," Sir Cooper interjects. "We definitely saw him. Big ugly thing, covered in warts." Burt stares at him for a moment before continuing.

"Right," he says. "So Finn will be heading out to do that. But this morning a pair of villagers came in from the Mountain Holdfast, claiming that there was a rockslide that damaged their crops."

Kurt's heart starts to sink. Normally Finn handles all of their relations with the townfolk around the castle. His brother likes nothing more than to mount a big, stinky horse and ride around. Kurt's always enjoyed that, being younger and somewhat more. . .effeminate. . .his father has always let him sit in on council meetings instead. But with Finn gone. . .

"I need you to check on the truth of the statement," Burt says. "And you'll bring with you a few of our stonemasons, to help repair the damage. King Fabray has graciously offered to let you use his knights as a personal guard, since Finn will be taking our finest soldiers with him."

Kurt sucks in a quick breath. He darely hopes to dream, and yet. . .

"Sir Cooper will accompany you on the morrow," King Burt finishes. Kurt has to keep from swooning.

**A/N: Man, this story needs to pick up a little. All set-up and no action. Don't worry, though, things get a bit more exciting next chapter!**

**COMING SOON: Finn sets out on his first ever quest, Kurt has to ride a horse, Sir Cooper continues to be dashing, Sebastian continues his pursuit of the apprentice Blaine, and Mercedes continues to just laugh at everyone around her.**


End file.
